2023-05-02 10:36:48

2023-05-02 10:36:48

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Prayer About ImpatiencePrayer About Impatience

Dear Heavenly Father, I come to you this morning with a topic I’ve prayed about in the past, but my husband has asked me to pray for help once more. I am impatient—impatient enough so that it affects my life in many areas. Perhaps my impatience began as a child; I was raised in a family of eight, three of them grandparents. As the middle child, if I wanted to be heard, I needed to get things said quickly, take my opportunity, use it, and move on. It was then I developed the habit of completing others’ sentences. Should they pause for a moment, I jumped in and finished their thought.

Increasingly my entire day could be ruined by the experience of standing in a line. If I had a cart with only a few items and so I chose the line that said “20 Items or Less”, I was angry with someone whose cart was filled with far more than 20 items—30? Perhaps even 40? And what about those individuals who seem not to anticipate they would need to pay for their purchases. With apparent shock and surprise at the cashier’s total, they fumble in purses, struggle for check books or credit cards or cash—as if mostly people go through these lines without paying. I can feel the anger and impatience building up in me.

When I drive, those individuals who pass me are obviously reckless with their speed, while those who drive too slow are infuriating, forcing me to tell them so in various ways. Perhaps worse of all are the drivers who go the same speed I want to travel; their presence in front of me hampers my vision and annoys me greatly. I am impatient.

It is this same impatience that affects my relationship with you, Lord. Too often I pray with the answer I want and expect. I’ve made a choice; now make it happen That’s it. I have no time to listen to You, Lord. When I’m done, my prayer is ended. Time to move on to other things.

My relationships with others are affected as well. I shortchange myself regularly. What would I learn if I didn’t finish the sentences of others? What might they have said for themselves? I’ve never had the opportunity to learn from silence—I supply whatever I think needs to be said. Sometimes I wonder what it is I’m hurrying toward. Is it death?

And so I come to you, dear Father, asking for help. I need to live in the moment, to let life unfold at its own pace, without pushing and prodding and urging it to move faster. I tell myself that Jesus waited 30 years for His ministry to begin. Being impatient is a sin—I know that. I am attempting to create the world in my time, not accepting Yours. It is arrogant not to acknowledge the whole person, short-cutting what might be heard. The Bible makes it very clear that we should live in your time, Lord. I’m certain Mary might have preferred to give birth to her son at home rather than on a trip—in a manger? But the Bible makes it very clear “When the days were accomplished that she should be delivered”, she gave birth. Your days, Lord, not hers. When Mary was anxious about the wine at the wedding in Cana and asked Jesus to intercede, He made His feelings clear, “My time has not yet come”. In the fullness of time. Your time, not mine. Help me Lord to live in that fullness—help me live according to Corinthians 13:4—“Love is patient”. May I live in that love—in that patience. Amen

Cloudy WindowsCloudy Windows

  My windows are covered with salt spray, especially those that look on the ocean.  When I peer out, what I see is clouded and spotted, distorted by the deposits made in each tiny drop.  My life is sometimes like that.  I am distracted by tiny ‘things’ that leave their mark on my vision, distorting and marring the view.  Each drop is so minute, and yet the accumulated distortion affects all that I see.  Pettiness and resentment encrust my perspective, making me cross and depressed.  Seeds of selfishness cause small changes in my view until I see only what is blurred and misshapen.  How can I see your world clearly through windows that distort my vision and its clarity? I pray, O God, help me wash my spirit and scour away these distorting deposits.  May I look through eyes that are clear and loving; may I see others as you see them.  Please help me see through eyes washed with your water of love and forgiveness; help me see only as you see.

Finding a FeatherFinding a Feather

  Today on my beach walk, I came across a feather.  It lay in the sand, perfect in shape, a swift, arching curve.  I picked it up, running my fingers over its simple complexity.  I wonder if the owner knew of the feather’s loss, or if it simply fluttered down as the bird soared overhead in search of food.  Perhaps it was scarcely acknowledged as it went missing.  I turned around to see my footprints in the sand; I wonder now what I leave behind me, what traces do others come across.  Is what I leave behind beautiful or sordid?  I wonder, dear Father, if others can see you in my footprints.  Do I leave behind a message of hope, of encouragement, of love?  What words have my lips last spoken?  Where did my feet last visit?  What message did my hands last shape?  Does my path seem strewn with careless and selfish refuse, with ugly words, with mean spirited thoughtlessness?  O please help me, Heavenly Father, to walk in your path, to leave behind in my wake all that testifies I share my path with you.